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The herd had decided. Hhrazrak would die. 4 of the gors wrestled him to the ground, raining blows down on his struggling body while hissing insults. All the while he shouted out"I am innocent, this is the trickery of the cultists at work, they have played us off against each other, Khragur is the one to blame for the murders, not me!"Khragur snarled, raising his weapon to cut down the accused."Hold your blade Khragur, I am the one who will pass judgement"The Shaman walked towards the group, his one eye blazing with fury."Hhrazrak! The herd has deemed you a traitor, your death is unavoidable, but if you are indeed innocent, it shall be swift."Grabbing the throat of the accused gor, Sharrghar pressed his gnarled bray-staff against Hhrazak's temple. A bright flash emmited from the skulls tied to the staff, and Hhrazak groaned in pain. Sharrghar's eyes narrowed and he muttered a few words. Hhrazrak died immediately, and his body slowly began to burn. The shaman walked away, and spoke one word in a tone that was equal parts anger and sorrow."Innocent".---RagGor ran. He had been decieved by the herd, he saw that now. Hhrazrak was right, the cultists had used him, used everyone. They had abstainned while the loyal gors were killed or turned into diseased monsters. The herd was doomed, he saw that now, the remaining would need a miracle to flush out the corruption in their midst. He did not plan on waiting around to see if it happened, there was too much risk. Perhaps he could find another tribe, tell them the location of the Stonehorns, see if they could defeat the cultists. Seeing another gor nearby, he made his way towards them. Unfortunately, he was so engrossed in his thoughts he did not recognise the beast he was running towards, not did he notice the skull in their hand, covered in black liquid and maggots, or the knife in their other hand, corroded with filth and rust. The herd would awaken to another pox-ridden gor, this one thankfully having already died from nurgle's blessings.Pat Man Freedom has been lynched, he was a gorWarhound of Chaos has been assassinated by the Mad One, he was a gor

Baelgor had watched the execution of Hhrazark with impunity, restrained by the shamans command of the herd, he could do nothing but stand by at the gor's death, fully expecting the result when it was announced, innocent. Growling he turned on the others that remained, it was already too late though, the only other member of the herd that he'd believed he could trust, RagGor, had fled and was now a mouldering corpse like Killgor.

Pointing a clawed finger at Khragur, Baelgor rasped, "said before, now say again, you are the filth that is killing this herd, by the Gods I swear it must be so. You lead the others in execution of true gors, you are the rot at our heart."

Khragur, showing the sprouts of two new horns paid little heed to the accusations of Baelgor. Baelgor stood as the last weakness in the Stonehorn tribe. Soon, the herd would rise again. For now, Baelgor was a tumour which needed to be removed.

The gor that approached was hunched over, its twisted horns protruding upwards. It muttered softly about ‘papa’ under its breath, a mad glint in its eyes. It stood over the spasming gor, and muttered a spell. He then plodded away. ‘Papa will be pleased his gift is shared…’

Only Gurak has Twisted horns in the herd. Khragur realizes the threat of Nurgle, and changes his vote.

Aamgor looked around at his fellow gors all pointing fingers, and finally decided. " I shall see you in the nine hells, Gurak. Sorry. My choice is made, you must die. I'm sure your papa shall love you when you are by his side.", a little sympathy came with his voice. He had shared his whole life with these gors. This whole time Aamgor had been a spectator in these lynching and cultist killings. Now it was time to step up. The less gors the more shiny stuff, huh? He might just make it out alive, and even better, with loot.

"Ha ha ha, you fools! Only after this is done will you see your error, the forces I serve are more powerful than you could imagine. This will not end well for you if you continue with this! Embrace the rot! Join me in Father Nurgle's dance of destruction! If you kill me, all of Papa's gifts that were bestowed on me will be released into the wind and your puny bodies will be wasted away by His plagues!"